Aftermath
by DefiantDuck
Summary: Following a kiss that neither Dean Winchester or Castiel wanted to happen, both hunter and angel flee from one another, overwhelmed and confused. Taking place in the canon Supernatural universe, this is the story of their realisation that what had happened was a long time coming, and even their realisation that this was what they had needed all along.
1. 1 - Castiel

_Author's note:_

_The two chapters of this story occur in parallel – that is, they are happening at the same time. Eventually, they both join up and tell the same events, but the purpose of using this kind of dual narrative is to tell the same events from the two very different perspectives of Dean and Castiel._

_It occurs in the canon Supernatural universe, and contains no smut. I've also combed this many times in search of errors, but there will always be a couple that slip through._

_If you like Aftermath, please don't hesitate to leave a review, I'd love to hear what you think! If you really liked it, make sure to tell a friend about it! :D_

_Even so, I hope you enjoy it ~ :P_

* * *

**CASTIEL**

* * *

Cas was flying.

For the longest time, he just flew. Around the world, over deserts and cities and through stars and nebulas. He was suspended in space, having taken off from the ground without any clear indication of where he'd wanted to go. Normally flying was an instantaneous thing, one second he'd be one place, then he'd decide to go to another and then he'd be there.

Something had happened though, something that had made him forget about everything he'd been thinking, any plans he'd had, the ideas about returning to heaven, all had evaporated at the touch of a pair of lips.

He'd been kissed by Dean Winchester.

Dean Winchester, the sullen and moody hunter who had slowly but surely become Castiel's closest friend and trusted companion.

He had seen humans love before, seen them offer everything they were to one another. Castiel had always thought it was one of the bravest things about humanity. Throwing everything, every ounce of their existence, into the wind in the hopes another person would pick it up, dust it off and love it. But he'd also seen humans hurt by this process of attraction and courting, burnt badly by the rejection of others. No matter their injuries, though, humans always tried again, their blind faith in love something Castiel could never understand.

Angels couldn't love. They couldn't do what humans do, offer themselves so completely to another being and allow a small part of themselves to be carried and cared for by another. Yet, over his life, Castiel thought he might have come close to love a couple of times. Always differently, the feeling was never the same.

There was, of course, the love he felt for his father. God was everything, His light illuminated every orifice and crevice of his existence, and Castiel had always held that faith in his father so close to his heart. He felt like everything would be alright while God was watchful, there was no irreparable evil that humanity could commit that couldn't be soothed by the love of a benevolent God. But, once he'd found out God was no longer watching over him, Castiel couldn't help feeling betrayed. It was not love in the romantic sense, of course not, but for a while he understood the feelings of those humans whose lovers had spurned them or cheated on them. To believe in someone so completely only to have them rip this away, it was a pain greater than he'd ever known.

Then there were his brothers and sisters. Castiel loved them with a kind of dutiful affection. Some were better than others, more kind and patient and everything God had wanted them to be, but others were power hungry and unpleasant. Cas loved them all, though, even though their betrayals and manipulations on earth cut him deeply.

He decided he had a kind of love for Sam Winchester. It was a kind of brotherly love, the kind he had for his angel kin, but more intense. He wanted to protect Sam, wanted to make sure no one hurt him. He understood Dean's protectiveness, and began to feel it himself. Sam truly was a beautiful soul, all compassion and emotion. He was everything that made humanity spectacular, and Castiel loved him for it.

There was a time when he'd thought he might love the demon, Meg. A time of excitement and dizzying new feelings that were so unusual he felt giddy at the memory. When the dust had settled though, he realised what he felt for the manipulative demon was not love, not devotion, but lust. He'd wanted her body, or rather; Jimmy Novak's lingering sexual preferences wanted her body. Castiel himself had been looking for something else, some glimmering light shining through her soul that he'd seen so often in humans. It was this shine of humanity that had made humans so beautiful to him. Of course, he hadn't found that shine in Meg, and the attraction evaporated fairly quickly after that.

And then there was Dean. Dean was beautiful in the same basic ways as Sam. They both had wild and tumultuous emotions that were bright and colourful one minute and then dark and stormy another. This was enthralling, but all humans had this. The light that Meg had lacked, the shimmer of humanity and a soul as pure and good as it was broken and scarred, was so bright in Dean that Castiel, when plucking him from the fires of perdition, could only stare in awe at the man upon first laying eyes on him. He had gripped Dean tightly then, knowing then that he held in his arms a burden far more precious than any he'd ever known, in all his slice of eternity. When he had freed Dean, when the hunter was whole and breathing once more, Castiel found he couldn't quite let go, didn't quite want to. He'd left his mark on Dean's shoulder and waited, patiently, knowing the hunter would pursue his saviour.

Castiel materialised on a mountain, white snow and picturesque blue skies around him. He liked the cold. It was preserving, it could capture something and hold it captive for a long time, a snapshot of life and time. Upon the highest peak of the Himalayas, as he was now, he got the feeling that time could stand still, that he was standing in a frozen moment that he could relive as long as he liked.

Cas took a deep breath, even though his grace sustained his vessel in such a way that oxygen was not really needed. He found it calmed him, settled his beating heart.

Dean Winchester, possibly the most beautiful human in all of creation, had kissed him.

He wasn't quite sure why the kiss itself was sending him in such a wild tail-spin. He hadn't even responded to the kiss, becoming very still under the touch of the human, shock keeping him from moving. Kissing was an entirely human practice, he remembered that around the time kissing emerged as the standard practice for those expressing passion on earth, he and his angel brothers had stood watching over earth in confusion. They'd wondered where the idea had possibly come from, how strange it seemed. Some sentimental sense in Castiel had thought it quite beautiful, though. He figured it a kind of joining of two people. If mouths were where words came out, where the thoughts and emotions were expressed, didn't kissing make perfect sense?

Maybe it wasn't the _significance_ of the act of kissing that had so derailed Castiel, maybe it was the act itself. His senses _had _become remarkably acute when Dean had leaned forward. Smell, touch, sight, taste had all come together in a delicious way, Cas being aware of every muscle in his body, every nerve ending. Being so close to Dean had made him feel – there was no other word for it – _ali_ve.

He stared into the snow and mountains, pondering what this could possibly mean. People who were attracted to one another shared kisses. Was Dean attracted to him? He couldn't think of any other reason Dean would do what he did.

When his mind strayed into the dangerous territory of thinking about what might happen after this, Castiel couldn't help feeling a little giddy. The thought of Dean being _his, _being only his and no one else's elated him. He'd always found Dean to be a perfect human being, both physically and emotionally, everything about him must have been how God had pictured true humanity, in its purest and most fundamentally good form. The idea that Dean would be attracted to he, Castiel, was as absurd as it was thrilling.

He knew human couples slept with one another, getting as close as humans could get to one another, but that thinking of that wasn't what was now making Castiel feel like he was floating, though he couldn't deny the thought of Dean like that was making strange jolts of energy shoot through his body, ending at strategic points in his anatomy.

He wanted Dean.

He hadn't realised it until now, or at least, hadn't realised just _how _he'd wanted Dean.

He had always wanted Dean's companionship, his loyalty, but now he wanted anything and everything Dean had to give. Not just physically, though Castiel wouldn't mind that, but emotionally and mentally. And romantically. He wanted to feel the way humans in love felt. And he wanted to feel it with Dean. He supposed he'd never realised this before because Dean had given him no indication that he'd ever been attracted to the angel. Or men, really, always favouring slim blondes. He knew that men who favoured men existed, and personally, he had no dispute with it, neither did the other angels, but he'd never thought (never dared to hope, more like it,) that Dean was such a man.

Swallowing hard, his brows pulled together with thought. Angels had consorted with humans before. It wasn't encouraged, but it had happened. At worst, such a dalliance resulted in the birth of a Nephilim, a half man half angel abomination. But that then presented the next problem, the next glaring problem – his vessel was male, even his grace had filtered into the crevices of Jimmy Novak's mind in such a way that made him a male persona. Dean was male too. What would the other angels think?

But, Castiel had to concede, it didn't matter that much anyway. Even if Dean was a woman, he would still be _Dean, _nothing would be different_. _It was not the fact that Dean was male that Castiel loved, it was the fact that he was Dean.

For the first time in a long while, Castiel smiled. He was an angel, a timeless and watchful celestial being that had lived through the creation of the earth, and one human, a mere blip on the timeline of eternity, was making him feel something he'd never really felt before.

He was feeling love.

Turning around slowly, he decided he had considered this long enough. With the sound of flapping wings, he took flight.

Both Dean and Sam jumped violently when he materialised in the darkened motel room. Castiel had misjudged the time. It was not two in the afternoon, but two in the morning, and both boys were snoring softly on their beds when he'd arrived.

Once they'd turned a light on, still panting with the surprise of finding a guy standing in the middle of their motel room.

The golden light illuminated everything, playing brightly at the ruffled strands of Sam's long hair, and casting long dark shadows across the room. Cas' luminous blue eyes found Dean's face instantly, though the man's green gaze was directed elsewhere. The awkward silence hung in the air, though of course, Castiel couldn't recognise it as awkward, rather just a space of time during which he could stare at the man he had realised he loved more than he loved anything else in all of time and space.

"Cas," Sam panted, rubbing his tired face wearily. "You can't just turn up here, man. We need sleep every now and then, just call or text, or – "

Castiel ripped his eyes away from Dean's face, almost painfully. "I'm sorry for waking you," he said honestly, seeing the weariness in the younger Winchester's eyes with regret. "I misjudged the time."

Sam got up, stretching his arms above his head. Finally, a smile played at his lips. "It's okay, Cas. A bit of warning would be nice next time, though." He tilted his head at the angel curiously. "What's up?"

Castiel took a deep breath. "You should probably leave the room, Sam. I think I would like to kiss Dean." He said seriously, marvelling at his own knowledge of the Winchester brothers and human tact – Dean would never want his little brother being present for this. The angel smiled politely at Sam, who'd frozen in place.

The younger Winchester's eyes moved from Castiel to Dean, who'd frozen even more rigidly than Sam at Cas' words. In seeing the scene before him, the two brothers frozen like statues before him, Castiel began to feel almost as though he'd said something wrong.

The smile fell from Castiel face slowly, but when he opened his mouth up to speak again, Sam raised his palms, shaking his head. "No, no, I just – yeah, y'know what? I'm gonna go. I got – I got stuff to take care of – just…" He shot one last look over the pair of them before hurrying outside, still shaking his head.

Dean stood up abruptly, hardened eyes turning on Castiel. "What the _hell, _man?"

Castiel was now more sure than ever that he'd said something wrong. "I don't – "

"No," Dean cut him off, shaking his head. Cas fixed his gaze on the older Winchester's eyes, a bright green that reminded the angel of lush rainforests. All too soon, Dean's voice was pulling him back to reality though. "You leave here without so much as a goodbye, you don't answer mine or Sammy's calls, and now you show up here and say something like _that?"_

Castiel's mouth closed slowly. So this was what Dean was upset about? "I didn't know you called. I doubt my cell phone got coverage at the Himalayas."

Dean was taken aback, shaking his head in bemusement. "The _Himalayas?! _That's where you were for the past three weeks?!"

Cas blinked. Maybe he'd been on the mountain a little longer than he'd thought. "Three weeks?"

"Three weeks. What the hell were you doing?!"

Castiel frowned. He didn't want to lie, not to Dean. "I was thinking."

"Thinking. What the _hell_ takes three weeks to think about!?" Dean snapped, his tone making something in Castiel hurt a little.

"You," He answered, holding Dean's gaze.

A tense silence met his words, stretching out impossibly long. Their gazes remained locked, Castiel feeling quite like he was drowning in the luminous green glow of the hunter's eyes. Finally, Dean swallowed, hard. "You were thinking about me." His voice was low, unbelieving, even suspicious.

Castiel nodded once. "Yes."

"_Why?"_

Cas sighed, looking away as his brow furrowed thoughtfully. "I'm not sure. It was quite an educational meditation. I thought about the nature of human love and affection, and tried to equate it to angelic modes of loyalty and bonding."

Dean shook his head, bewildered. "I – don't know what that means, man."

Castiel shrugged, turning back to face Dean, only now realising how close they were. One step forward by either of them and they would have been toe to toe. "After our… encounter… I thought long and hard about the nature of love."

A million emotions crossed Dean's face, and Castiel found he couldn't quite keep track of them, beyond hoping beyond hope that the expression that settled on his face was not anger, even though startled annoyance flitted across his features. Finally, though, he seemed to control his feelings, turning his face into an impassive mask. "And?"

Castiel blinked. He wanted to explain further, to tell Dean exactly the thoughts he'd had while on the mountain, but some other fancy had taken complete hold of him. He leaned forward, face tilted up, until he was so close to Dean's face that he could feel the other man's breath on his skin. It made his flesh tingle with anticipation. He stayed there, unsure of how to proceed. Not that he wasn't enjoying this, the feeling of his vessel breathing in the same air that Dean was breathing out, his hot sighs sweet on the angel's tongue.

Thankfully, Dean closed the distance. Their lips met in a way that was entirely different to the last time, during which Castiel had frozen with surprise. He moved with Dean, learning quickly from the way the man's lips and tongue moved over his, reciprocating the actions with enthusiasm, and shivering slightly when the hunter reached forward to lay a hand on his hip.

Castiel moved forward so his body was pressed up against Deans, and he felt the warmth and solid comfort of the other man. He laid one hand on Dean's chest and another higher, where his neck met his shoulder. Dean placed his other hand on the back of the angel's neck, fingertips brushing against the dark ruffled hair there. He felt his own body tingling, not the body of his vessel translating feelings, he and the sensation of touch were no longer separated by a kind of humanity he could never achieve. He was just _feeling, _and that in itself was incredible.

It was there, when Castiel was pressed against Dean in the artificial light of the motel room, that he realised he loved Dean for many wonderful reasons, not the least of which was that Dean made the angel feel human. Dean tightened his grip, pulling Cas impossibly closer.

It felt like an eternity before Dean pulled away, still holding on to the angel before him. Their eyes met for a moment. Castiel felt he should probably say something, though he didn't really know what, what words could begin to describe what had just happened. He settled on telling the truth. He blinked up at Dean, feeling his eyes soften a little. "I love you, Dean."

Dean's face twitched, a smile playing at the sides of his mouth.

"Love you too, Cas."


	2. 2 - Dean

**DEAN**

* * *

God _damn, _what had Dean just done?!

He paced the motel room restlessly, arms crossed over his chest and thoughts shooting around his brain like cars on a racing track, just a blur of motion, no one thought could be pinned down and analysed. He tried to calm himself, but his rapidly beating heart was making that impossible. There was only one coherent thought he could force out – thank _god _Sammy hadn't seen that.

What would his little brother have thought if he saw Dean trying to make out with another guy. No, not just another guy. Castiel, the very scruffy, very _male _angel. Dean freed his arms so he could rub his face. He had to chill out. Sam would be back from the library any minute, and he couldn't walk in to find Dean shaking and jittery like a complete mess. He had to pull it together.

But, try as he might, he just couldn't do it. What had he been thinking?! Castiel had appeared out of nowhere, relaying some new piece of information, probably about the case they were working right now, when the urge had struck Dean - the insane, indescribably ridiculous urge to lean in close and brush his lips against the lips of the angel. It had been a moment only, a second of contact before both men had pulled away. In the exact same moment, Dean had turned on his heels, panic flooding through his veins, and Castiel had vanished, the soft sound of flapping feathered wings still echoing in Dean's ears.

That wasn't the worst part, though. No, the very worst part about the whole situation was that the kiss was entirely one sided. Castiel had just stood there, unmoving, frozen with surprise and probably horror, as his male friend put the moves on him. Dean flopped onto his bed, still in the dark suit and thigh-length black coat he'd worn uncover as a fake FBI agent. Rubbing his face again, his insides writhed with embarrassment. He'd tried to kiss _Cas, _for Gods sake.

He couldn't even begin to wonder why he'd done it. The reasoning behind why he did what he did felt like this big dark feelingburied deep in his mind, a feeling he didn't want to even go near. He didn't like admitting it, but this feeling had been there a long time, longer than he'd even realised.

Cas was an attractive guy, sure, he'd get any girl he wanted if he wasn't so… well… _Cas. _The guy was so awkward without realising it, he had no idea what people were really like, even though he'd been alive for god knows how long. Dean couldn't help smiling a little remembering Castiel's confused head tilt, the sound of his voice when he said "_I don't understand that reference." _

When Dean thought of Cas, it was definitely with affection. Isn't that how you're supposed to think of a friend? Granted, Cas was a _very _good friend. He and Dean had been through a lot together, always coming out all right on the other side – the angel had raised him from hell for crying out loud, saving him from an eternity of pain.

Maybe that was it. Gratitude. Overwhelming thankfulness had resulted in a temporary moment of insanity in which Dean had tried to kiss Castiel. Yeah, that sounded about right.

But something else was niggling at the back of his mind, something insistent and annoying. Before he could force it to the darkest corners of his thoughts, it had invaded the front of his brain, and once he'd thought of it, there would be no going back.

He'd enjoyed it.

He'd actually enjoyed the feeling of Castiel's lips on his. They were dry but soft, unmoving but it was still the most satisfying thing Dean had done in a long time. He moaned in frustration and raised his arms above his head, squeezing his eyes closed. He liked it. As in, Dean _really _liked it.

What did that mean? Was Dean gay now? That couldn't be right. He got up and ripped open his torn and frayed bag, where all his clothes and other minimal possessions were housed. Burrowing deep into the piles of clothing and canned food, his fingers touched something glossy and smooth, and he grabbed it and pulled it out. His eyes fell immediately on the title of the magazine in his hands. _BUSTY ASIAN BEAUTIES _was burnt into the back of his eyes as he stared at it, willing it to trigger some feeling inside him, some victorious sensation that proved beyond a doubt he wasn't gay.

As he thumbed through the pages, eyes moving over the pictures, he wasn't disappointed. Familiar feelings of warmth flooded into familiar places, and he found himself just as relieved as he was aroused. Closing the magazine after a while, he leaned back on the bed and stared at the roof.

He liked women. That much hadn't changed, at least. So why was he still feeling light headed at the memory of kissing Cas? He was still staring at the roof, brow furrowed in confusion, when Sam walked into the room.

"So get this," his little brother announced, dumping a bag of fries and burgers onto the motel room's tiny dining room table, "I found out the preacher's kids were all cremated, so we can pretty much rule them out for now, but the neighbour's sister was buried at a lot in the local grave…" Sam hesitated, eyes narrowing at the sight of his brother sprawled motionless on the bed, staring straight up. "Dude, you okay?"

Dean jerked upright, perhaps smiling a little too enthusiastically. "I'm great! Talk to me, man, neighbour's sister. Was she hot?" Dean congratulated himself. That sounded suitably heterosexual.

Sam blinked. "She's _dead, _Dean. Were you even listening?" The corners of his mouth turned down in disgust.

"Of course I'm listening." Dean lied. He smiled, but felt a flush creep up his neck. "Sure, dead. C'mon man, I'm just kind of tired. Tell me more. I'm listening, really."

Sam shrugged and continued explaining some convoluted story about the neighbor's sister cheating on her husband with the preacher and returning from the other side to haunt the entire street. It was a simple salt and burn operation, and Dean found himself tuning out halfway through his brother's explanation, thinking instead about bright blue eyes and dark ruffled hair. When he realised what he'd been thinking about, he shook himself and thought about women instead.

Things continued this way for about a week. Dean forced any unsavoury thoughts of his angelic friend to the back of his mind, thinking instead about the cases he and Sammy picked up while driving from east to west, north to south, on the never ending roads they seemed to find themselves on.

It was when Sam tried to call Castiel for help identifying some angel sigils in a warehouse in San Francisco that Dean first figured something was probably wrong. His little brother's eyebrows pulled together in confusion. "That's weird," he said, hanging up. "He's usually pretty good with answering when we call."

'When _I _call,' Dean thought to himself, because it was true. It was hit and miss when Sam tried to summon Castiel, but the angel was always there when Dean called. The thought made him warm all over.

Then Sam's eyes brightened, as though he thought of something. "Try praying to him."

Dean shook his head. "Look, man, he's probably busy, no sense in bothering him, right?" His words sounded weird, even to Dean, and they made Sam's eyes narrow.

On the way back to the Impala, Sam had pulled his brother up, that suspicious expression still on his face. Dean felt heat rush to his face, dreading what would be coming.

"What's up with you, man?" Sam asked seriously. "You've been off all week."

Dean swallowed, hard. God, this couldn't be happening. Sam couldn't suspect what had happened, could he? "Off?" He said dumbly.

"Yeah, distracted and stuff." Sam said vaguely, and Dean felt a little indignant. He thought he'd thrown himself into the cases to distract from the maelstrom of thoughts and feelings raging in his mind. Apparently it hadn't worked.

"I'm fine, Sammy," Dean reassured Sam, smiling as if to prove his point.

"What's happened, Dean?" Sam asked, and the suspicion in his voice was replaced by sheer honesty, a kind of childish plea for the truth that made Dean's heart wrench. "I thought we promised each other – no more secrets."

Dean opened and closed his mouth, torn. He wanted to tell Sammy, he really did, but he really had to sort out what was going on in his own head even more.

He had always been an advocate of pushing feelings you didn't want to address so far back that you didn't even have to feel them anymore. But the problem he was having with this particular feeling was that he so desperately _wanted _to feel it. He missed Cas, and as much as he didn't want to admit it, he missed Cas in a way that was completely different to the way he missed Sam when his brother wasn't around. It was even different to the way he'd miss Lisa and Ben, wondering what they were doing, if they were safe. He knew Cas would be safe, he didn't have to worry about the angel's ability to look after himself, so that left Dean free to miss being around Cas for the simple reason of being around his friend, rather than worry about whether he was okay. Except – maybe he didn't _really _miss Cas as just a friend anymore.

Once he'd accepted the fact that there was maybe a little part of himself that wanted Castiel in a way that wasn't strictly platonic, he couldn't help feeling a little relieved. Acceptance of the attraction wasn't what was scary, though. What was scary was that, while he wanted Cas almost the same way he wanted pretty girls, he couldn't deny that there was something more to it. He was attracted to Cas, sure, but he also _liked _Cas. As a person, as a friend.

Castiel was loyal to those he loved, and always tried to do the right thing, even if it hadn't always worked. Dean was willing to forgive him this, though, because no matter what he did, Cas' heart would always, _always, _be in the right place. Thinking about everything that Cas was, everything he loved and everything he stood for, Dean couldn't help thinking how awesome the guy was.

Love was kind of a scary word, but even Dean, who was so adverse to commitment he'd run screaming from every serious relationship he'd ever attempted, started to admit to himself that it came pretty close to how he felt about the trench coated angel.

_Why, though? _He wondered to himself. _What do you even want from Cas? _The word 'boyfriend' had a bad taste, it felt wrong to attach that word to Castiel. Dean felt like the angel should be so much more than that, so much more important than any one word could describe. He'd never felt a frustration with the English language before, but try as he might, he couldn't come up with a word or phrase that would accurately describe what he wanted Cas to be.

And then he was back in reality, thrown out of his thoughts to face the wide-eyed concern of his little brother. "Dean?" Sam asked. "You still with me?"

Dean smiled and, for the first time in days, it was a genuine smile. "Yeah." He said. "Yeah, I think I'm good."

He brushed Sam off then, his little brother didn't need to know what was going on at the moment, hopefully there would be time later to discuss it. Dean sucked at dealing with his feelings, but for now, he only had to deal with what he felt one step at a time.

Step one: There might be a tiny little part of him that's gay, but that's okay.

Step two: He's in love with Castiel.

Dean knew as long as he kept these things in mind, but didn't overthink them, he was going to be fine. The realisation of how he felt about Cas had taken an enormous weight off his shoulders and, no longer wrestling with feelings that he didn't know whether he should be feeling or not, he could throw himself back into the family business with his usual enthusiasm.

As the days turned into weeks, though, something like doubt crept its way into Dean's thoughts. Sure, he'd declared his feelings to himself, but he couldn't help remembering how the angel had gone rigid and still with surprise when Dean had kissed him. Maybe Cas didn't want Dean as much as Dean wanted Cas.

Both he and Sam had tried calling Castiel, leaving endless voicemail messages, though Sam did point out that it would be a true miracle if the angel knew how to work voicemail. After three weeks, Dean was genuinely beginning to give up hope of seeing the Castiel again. Not for the first time, he cursed himself for kissing the angel. But, then again, if he hadn't, maybe he'd never have faced up to how he had been feeling for a long time.

He never thought he'd be happy to be woken up in the middle of the night by a figure standing in the middle of his motel room. Both he and Sam jumped a mile into the air, flailing wildly until Sam flicked his bedside lamp on and they both froze, staring at the intruder.

Castiel looked exactly the same as the last time Dean had seen him, but this time Dean's stomach performed wild swooping backflips at the sight of him. He cursed himself. He was Dean Winchester for God's sake, and he refused to act like a girl even though his heart had begun to hammer more rapidly at the sight of the angel. Cas's eyes sweeped the room before fixing intently on Dean's face. Dean ignored his writhing stomach, looking away uncomfortably. For some reason, he couldn't meet Cas' deep blue stare.

"Cas," Sam panted, getting over the shock of seeing the angel. "You can't just turn up here, man. We need sleep every now and then, just call or text, or – "

Dean felt Castiel's gaze leave his face, and he was equal parts relieved and disappointed. There was a fierce intensity to the angel's glare that once had seemed creepy and weird, but was now giving him a pleasant warm feeling deep in his gut, and making his mind buzz incoherently. "I'm sorry for waking you," Dean heard Castiel's gruff voice say. "I misjudged the time." Dean tried not to laugh. God, he'd missed his angel.

He glanced up as Sam stood, stretching his arms. "It's okay, Cas. A bit of warning would be nice next time though. What's up?"

There was a moment of silence. "You should probably leave the room, Sam. I think I would like to kiss Dean."

Dean felt what could best be described as an explosion of emotion. Pleasure, relief and elation mingled with embarrassment and dread and unfortunately, in this grand war of a million feelings, embarrassment won out. He became very still, frozen in place as he felt Sam's gaze on the side of his face. He still didn't want to look up, eyes determinedly on the carpet.

After what seemed like an eternity, Dean heard Sam's voice as he moved to the door. "No, no, I just – yeah, y'know what? I'm gonna go. I got – I got stuff to take care of – just…" Dean exhaled when he heard the sound of the door closing behind his brother. He loved his brother, but now wasn't the time to come clean about what was going on in his head. Now was the time to sort it out with Cas himself.

When he looked up at Castiel's face, though, he felt only a surge of annoyance. "What the _hell _man?" He blurted, feeling the anxiety of the last 3 weeks bubble to the surface. He stood up, moving to stand in front of the angel.

Castiel looked uncertain. "I don't – "

"No," Dean snapped, beginning to shake his head a little. Castiel fixed him with another stare, the kind that made Dean think he was staring right into your soul. But he powered on, ignoring the warmness being this close to Castiel was giving him. "You leave here without so much as a goodbye, you don't answer mine or Sammy's calls, and now you show up here and say something like _that?" _He knew he was being harsh, but he hadn't realised just how worried he'd been about where Cas was, what he was doing, until now.

Castiel blinked, as though realising something. "I didn't know you called. I doubt my cell phone got coverage at the Himalayas."

Dean resisted the urge to laugh again, shaking his head as he was reminded once more just how much he missed the angel. "The _Himalayas?! _That's where you were for the past three weeks?!"

Cas looked surprised, as though this was news to him. "Three weeks?"

Dean nodded. "Three weeks. What the hell were you doing?!"

"I was thinking."

Dean paused, confused. "Thinking. What the _hell _takes three weeks to think about!?"

"You."

Dean couldn't say what the angel's words had awakened in him, but all he knew was that heat worked its way up his body, making his mind buzz pleasantly. Cas looked at him searchingly, as though trying to work out what he was thinking. Swallowing to wet his achingly dry throat, Dean blinked. "You were thinking about me?" And damn, if he didn't sound like a coy schoolgirl. He sounded a little unbelieving, though, because seriously, this couldn't be happening, could it?

"Yes."

Dean searched for something to say, but came out only with "_Why?"_

With a sigh, Castiel looked thoughtful, and Dean couldn't help thinking it looked adorable. "I'm not sure. It was quite an educational meditation. I thought about the nature of human love and affection, and tried to equate it to angelic modes of loyalty and bonding."

Dean shook his head with a sigh. He loved Cas, and really loved the gruff sound of the angel's voice, but seriously, sometimes he had no idea what the guy was on about. "I – don't know what that means, man."

Cas shrugged. "After our…encounter… I thought long and hard about the nature of love."

Dean blinked, unbelieving. He felt like the explosion of emotion was hitting him again, but this time, sheer joy was what settled on his features. The hours spent wondering whether he was gay, or whether there was something wrong with him for wanting to kiss his guy friend seemed a thousand years ago. It didn't matter anymore that Dean had been spending the past three weeks thinking the angel didn't want to see him again. Again, he searched for something to say, but failed. He wasn't good at this, wasn't good at expressing what he was feeling with words. Decades of suppressing "chick-flick" moments were possibly to blame. "And?" He choked out.

Castiel blinked, before leaning forward so his mouth was so close to Dean's. He paused, though, as if savouring the moment, before Dean lost patience and closed the gap, pressing their lips together. He felt completely elated when he felt Cas' mouth move beneath him, mirroring his movements with tangible enthusiasm. Resisting the urge to laugh out loud, and as he put a hand tentatively on the angel's hip, he felt Cas' hands settle on him, and he responded by bracing the back of his neck and enjoying the feeling of his hair through his fingers.

Pulling Cas closer so they pressed maddeningly together, Dean felt completely fine. Not conflicted, as he thought he might feel should he ever get the chance to do this again, not disgusted with himself and definitely not regretful. He wasn't good at knowing how to make himself happy, whenever something came along that might be good for him, he pushed away from it, running as far and as fast as he could go. It had happened with Lisa and Ben, even happened with Sam a couple of times. He knew, somehow, that whenever he found something really great, it would be taken from him somehow, ripped away from him, and maybe that's why he was terrible at making commitments of any kind – nothing good ever lasted.

But, as he tightened his grip on Castiel, he couldn't help feeling like he would never run away from this. He was too far gone into this feeling to ever back out now. It was a commitment, sure, and that was terrifying, but it was a _good _scary, like a rollercoaster. The ride was far too great to worry about falling. Dean wasn't giving this up, no matter how scary it got.

When they pulled away, Dean felt lighter than air. Cas stared at him, looking as though he wanted to say something. His eyes softened. "I love you, Dean."

Dean had never been more sure of anything in his life when he responded.

"Love you too, Cas."

**_END_**


End file.
